


Ad Victoriam

by Porphyrios



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Biting, First Kiss, Graphic Description, M/M, Oral Sex, Scents & Smells, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios
Summary: M!SoSu is looking for fun, and sees a giant fight with ghouls, and a big man wearing power armor.  Fun is had, eventually by all.  A retelling with a fair amount of smut of the first Danse mission.Note: Slight canon divergence where the M!SoSu deviates from the script on the first mission with Danse.  Also gives a plausible non-canon explanation of the more exotic perks like Blitz.  Kudos and comments (complimentary or not) always welcome.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some notes on where this diverges from Canon. Basically, the SoSu is really the Sole Survivor. Codsworth ran out of fuel; Nora and Shaun died in the blast. There's no Institute coming into the Vault, and the SoSu is a modified borderline psychopath. He's charming, but he's nuts. I'm not lying; you were warned. Seriously graphic violence in places, here.

The first time I saw Paladin Danse, he was hips-deep in a sea of ghouls, rotted limbs flailing around him as he fired with precision, slaughtering them as quickly and efficiently as a machine. Danse knew his armor like his skin, too, I'll give him that. He was like poetry in motion, at least as good as the tin men from the 86th Heart of Fire I fought with in Svedlovsk. He could probably dance ballet in that T-60. Fighting ferals looked like fun, so I went to help. I remembered combat from the war, sure, but this was different. Back then we were fighting enemy infantry and support units, not living corpses. Even a mechhound at full gallop couldn't knock you down with an arm full of radiation. I didn't have my fitted combat armor or skinsuit either, so I couldn't get touched by the ghouls or I'd have problems. That made it fun enough by itself.

I was using a baseball bat, much to his chagrin. Poor Danse. He didn't know about my augments... most people didn't, even before the war. I knew what I looked like... just another average height, slight-built guy, longish brown hair pulled back in a short ponytail, cleanshaven unremarkable face. Only the scars trailing up my neck from below were out of the ordinary. Looks were often deceiving, though. I was faster, tougher, had heightened senses, higher hem-ox... pretty much anything the Army lab rats could buff up, they did. Better vision, hearing, sense of smell, all of it. I could use a minigun in a t shirt and jeans, and had. I had also mastered the 'blip', which even freaked out the norms in the Army. We Auggies could move so fast they couldn't see us for short distances, hopping on top of someone and usually either introducing them to an electroblade up close and personal or (my personal favorite) hitting them with a polymer club so hard with augmented strength that their heads exploded. A lot of people got bothered by that, but it never bugged me in the slightest. I enjoyed exploding heads; it was funny. Sometimes I could get them in the neck when the angle was right, and instead of exploding, the head would go flying into the air. That was good fun, especially in combat. The psych docs ran a bunch of tests, said I was almost a psychopath, and sat around looking concerned. Typical eggheads. They acted like it was a weakness, but as far as I was concerned, it was a help. Now I guess the joke's on them. They're all dead and I'm still kicking. Sad to think I'm probably the last Auggie left, but it's not like there's still a war going on. Guess that makes me a surplus munition.

At any rate, we finally finished off the ghouls. The dusty rotten stench of them was overwhelming. He stink-eyed my beat up stick of wood, like it wasn't up to his standards. No lasers, I guess. I could already tell this guy had a serious gadget fetish. He was completely unaware that I could peel him out of that metal suit as easily as I could skin an orange, and about as fast. I recognized the military manner, though, and it was nice, familiar. Good to know the army had survived, even though he went through a lot of rah-rah about the Brotherhood of Steel, which didn't sound familiar. From his description, it sounded like two parts army, one part cult, but it's impossible to tell much from the recruiting posters for anything. Once I told him I was ex-mil myself, he seemed to decide I was alright. Funny, that. I served with a lot of people I wouldn't trust to walk my dog and not eat it. His two NCOs weren't so sure about me, but I knew how this worked. He liked me, so of course they liked me... whether they actually liked me or not. RHIP and all that shit. He tried to manipulate me into helping him with a bunch of standard military-grade horsepuckey about missions and meaning in life and other things that were utterly useless for the three Fs in life that were important. He finally took that ugly breadbox helmet off, and I was pleased to see that he was a handsome bastard, all dark eyes and scruff. Hmm. He was pretty much my type, since I like my men to be manly, same as I liked girly women. The mix and match always turned me off. As it was, I ignored the speech and focused on his mouth. It was a nice mouth. I was loaded up with food and water for Feeding, and Fighting seemed more common here than in wartime, but that third F... now that might take some attention.

He had some mission that needed doing; guys like him always do. I told him I would be happy to help him with his problems if he could keep me entertained. He gave me a look like I was joking, but I figured he would see what I meant soon enough. We hauled it down the road to some factory that was obviously a defense contractor back in the day. Huge ass place, sunk deep in the hill, basements going down to hell. On the way, we ran into a group of guys who decided they wanted to play. Danse was pretty good, I'll give him that. Against normal humans, he had three of them down before I got in range, and that was me moving at a good clip. Not max pace, but faster than most people would have been able to target and shoot, especially mobile hostiles in a complex environment. Well done, tin can. I blipped to one of the last raiders and gave him a love tap, but hit his head at the wrong angle and just crushed it - hate when I land wrong like that. The second one, though, I got exactly right. He had started to turn to see what the noise was, not even three seconds had passed, and I blipped again and hit him straight across the bridge of his nose. His head blew like a watermelon hit by a .50 caliber. I stood laughing in the middle of the road as Danse came clanking up. He looked at the mess, looked at me, and just kept on walking. Surprising. Most people wanted to comment on someone seeming to teleport around the field, but not the good Paladin. I was beginning to like this guy even more. OK, the eyebrows helped.

When we got in the door, he started telling me another long story about the Brotherhood. He was a good guy, this Paladin Danse, but he was way too fond of the sound of his own voice. Typical officer. My interest was piqued, though, when he started talking about synths. 'Who, or what', I asked him, 'is a synth?' He gave me a bunch of comic book claptrap that boiled down to robots that thought they were human, or some such foolishness. Now, I knew robots; I had plenty of experience with Mr. Gutsys and Assaultrons and Sentry Bots (though I hated those giant rolling tanks with a passion - no matter how hard you hit them, no matter where you hit them (with a few very specific exceptions) they just wouldn't give up). I even met a few Handys and Curies, once I was out and pretending to be a norm again. And Codsworth, of course. But these were apparently some new devilry, produced in a lab to bother the world. Even after a major war, nothing changed it seemed.

Then I met them.

Synths were the best toys in the world and designed for Auggies. I was in love. They looked like mannequins, made out of lots of high-tech components, but with fake human faces. When I hit them with my bat, they exploded like tech pinatas, gears and wires and tiny sparking bits going in all directions. They even made sad little whirring noises when I broke them! They ran around trying to shoot me with blue lasers or hit me with little bitty batons, like we were in an old cartoon. I blipped again and again, and no matter where I hit them, they exploded and made silly sounds, even complained in flat, robotic voices. Arms and legs flying, heads rolling into the others... it was amazing. Danse was shooting his laser rifle at them and shouting, I guess trying to rally his non-existent troops, but I was smiling. This was the most fun I'd had since crawling out of that frozen hole in the ground. In the first few areas we passed through, there were only token forces, barely enough for a warmup stretch, but when we got to the rocket engine... oh it was tremendous. Dozens of them, coming and coming. No matter how many I shattered, how far I could go, stut-stut-stuttering around the room with my blips until even my augs were tired, muscles full of toxins, supplemental adrenaline and serotonin flooding, there were more and more and gloriously more. I know I was laughing. This was great, superb, magnificent. I knew then I had made the right choice in coming with him. This was more fun than the battle at Yao Gan!

Danse was a little nervous around me after that. He was a norm, of course he was nervous. I knew better, was trained better, than to show off, but I just couldn't help it. The fun just got to me. It had been so long since I had fun like that, where the feeling of fighting just slid over me, flowing like syrup into my eyes and ears and wrapping around my brainstem, all my augments humming and laughing and chuckling inside me along my bones and organs, fighting dangerous things and killing them and not even being touched. The freedom of it, the liberation, the sheer leaping joy of taking off the false face I had to wear most of the time and letting the true me out, of being Death itself dancing in the world... only another Auggie could understand, really. Nora hated it, she never understood. Didn't even want me talking about it. I tried a few times, of course. Only three. Once because she said she wanted to know what it was like, twice because I thought she didn't understand what I was saying, maybe I chose the wrong words, and three times because I was stupid and couldn't believe she didn't mean it when she said that if something was important to me, it was important to her. She was too kind, my girl Nora. Too sheltered. When she got cornered by that giant rabid dog in Syracuse, she was happy I was there to defend her, but when I blipped across twenty feet to grab it, picked it up and just pulled its head off, she was scared. Scared of me, the man she married. I can't lie, that hurt. She hid it, at least she tried to, but she never looked at me the same after that. Even in bed, when I was always so careful, so achingly careful, to only touch as softly as I could, to only brush the skin like a butterfly wing, never a bruise, never a grip, gentlegentle, she always... looked at me. She had fun, I know she did, I could see it, hear it, smell it, but that look still said 'monster'. And once Shaun was born it only got worse. But that was all over, all past, all done. Now was today's fight, and we went to find more synths to kill.

The control room was honestly disappointing. Only a few feeble synths left. Guess the supply ran out after all, it always does. Even the Chinese factories couldn't produce enough robots to feed our bloodlust, that's why they resorted to the bombs. Danse and I cleaned up the trash and he found the gadget he was looking for. Always the gadgets for him. I would have been mildly interested if it did something for his suit, added fighting or defensive capabilities, but no. Just some sort of elaborate transmission thing, who cares. We got outside and Paladin Danse gave me yet another dose of the rah rah, I'm an excellent soldier for a civilian (snort), he's impressed, and he takes the gadget he seems to think I might want and as a reward tries to give me... a laser rifle. Because after watching me basically teleport around the room with a stick, killing three hostiles to his one, obviously what I'm missing in my life is a complicated chunk of technology that shoots light beams and will probably break when I need it most. The conversation went something like this.

'I think you'll find this weapon useful. It's my own personal modification of the standard laser rifle.'

'Keep it. I don't want it.' Kind of a mystery to me why he thought I would, really.

'But... this rifle is an exceptional weapon, and provides unparalleled efficiency of both firing and energy beam modulation. I've modified it to include...' Mr. Gadget clearly can't imagine someone turning down a new doodad.

'Paladin! I said I don't want it. I don't use guns. I move faster than they do, in case you missed it.' He made a noise like he was shocked and offended. Unfortunately, I couldn't see his face because he was still wearing his breadbox. Shame about that.

'I see. Well, it was my desire to compensate you for your trouble, but if it's not wanted...'

'I'd rather have something else.' Then he tried to hand me a handful of bottle caps! I found out later that they were used as money now, but at the time I just laughed in his face. 'I don't want your trash, tin man, I want your mouth.' I hadn't forgotten how it looked in the courtyard of the police station. A little fun with those lips was just what the doctor ordered. I should have known he would see it otherwise.

'My... what? That comment is unacceptable, and grounds for disciplinary action if you were in the Brotherhood. What do you mean to suggest...'

'I mean I'm horny. Straight up. Look, I'm an old school ground-pounder at heart, even if I do have some, uh, special skills. What matters in life are the 3 Fs. Feeding, Fighting, and Fucking. And for me, the fourth F, Fun. Now, I'm not hungry, and you've just shown me one hell of a fight. Had more fun than I have since the real war, and I appreciate that. You're even decent backup, which isn't a compliment I gave very often even back in the service. But if you're offering compensation for my help, I don't want your shiny boomstick, what I want is a blow job.' He popped off his breadbox, which I took as a good sign, but he was giving me a look that reminded me of my old sergeant, which I didn't. Those pretty eyes were hot enough to strip paint, sexy lips twisted into an very unsexy sneer.

'Typical degenerate wastelander trash.' And just like that, we were down to name calling. I sighed. Two hundred and ten years later, still the same old shit. 'The Brotherhood doesn't allow or approve of such sexual commerce. Nor do I. I was going to offer you a role in the Brotherhood, but clearly you aren't worthy.' He was all fire and fury and offended virtue. I probably should have been a little more tolerant, considering that this guy seemed awfully sheltered for a recon team leader. Wouldn't be the first time someone's pet got over-promoted, though. Anyway, I'd had about enough.

'Now listen to me, Junior, and listen good. I don't give a rat's ass what the Brotherhood does or doesn't like, or allow, or regulations say, or any of that shit. I did my time in the service, and I'm done with it. So...' He had the nerve to interrupt.

'You keep saying that, like I'm supposed to be impressed that you were in some sort of ragtag militia out here. What's this military service you keep talking about? I know you weren't in the Brotherhood, or you would never have said... that... to me.' Ah, curiosity, even in the face of being offended. Maybe there's hope for young Danse yet.

'Since you ask, Paladin, I was frozen in a Cryo-Vault for over two hundred years, thanks to Vault-Tec. I was in the US Army, PFC 'Sticky' Cuthbert, 89th Batallion, Augers of Doom. Little joke there, military humor. We were all Auggies, augmented soldiers, nothing you'd probably have heard of. Top secret, hush hush, scourge of the Red Chinese, rah rah rah. 'Puke to start us, nuke to stop us.' If I had my old uniform, I'd have enough breadboard to cover that tin can you're wearing. Fought at Yu Ning, fought at Yao Gan, fought at Xao Guei. Lived through Svedlovsk, and that isn't something a lot could say. And listening to you stand here and bark orders and act like King Shit in Shit Castle brings back memories for me, which is the only reason why I haven't popped you in the nose for calling me rude names. In case you were wondering.'

By this point, Danse was looking a little green around the gills. Seems he had heard of us after all. 'You were... augmented. I had no idea. There were rumors, but the records... Well. That explains a great deal, soldier.' Oh great, I'm back to soldier. By this point I was getting seriously bored, and had given up on any hopes of a blowjob. His pulse was suddenly elevated, I could see it in his temple, but that could mean anything. He surprised me with a follow up question. 'Was the process... painful?'

'What process?' Danse was looking seriously uncomfortable, but also fascinated. Huh. 'You mean being augmented?' He nodded. His eyes looked a little dilated. I could smell... hmm. Mr. Gadgets was very interested in my story, it seemed. Guess internal gadgets are even more exciting than external gadgets. Sometimes I'm a lucky sumbitch. 'Tell you what. We're out here in the open, and if you haven't noticed, there's a stack of radioactive drums over there that make me nervous. Let's go back in the main door of ArcJet to the lobby and I can tell you about it.'

'That would be acceptable. Let's move out.' As he turned to head that way, I heard a faint muttered 'Outstanding.'

'Hey Paladin.' I called. He turned, and I grinned. 'Want to race?' By the time his eyebrow was halfway up, I took off at max speed, just to make the point. Before he got his armor moving I was already around the corner of the building. If being an Auggie was hot to him, might as well show him what he was getting. I was leaning on the door whistling and looking bored by the time he rounded the corner. As he was about to speak, I went through the hydraulic door into the lobby. By the time he squeezed that giant walking refrigerator through the door, I was kicked back with my boots off on one of the lobby couches, can of purified water in my hand. I really wanted a beer, but after running my augs at max today, alcohol was a bad idea for a while until they reloaded. The water would help.

Once he got inside, he stood in the middle of the lobby, just looming over me and staring. This boy didn't have a lot of basic social graces, I was starting to notice. 'Why don't you lock the door, since you have the key. Then you can take off that damn armor and sit down like a normal person.' I figured a little needling was appropriate payback for standing and allowing myself to be called names. Besides, I wanted to see what was under all that metal. When I heard the hiss of hydraulic decompression and he climbed down from the chassis, you could have knocked me down with my own bat. My first thought was, they sure make 'em better than they used to. Back in the day, the 86th boys were all heavy. They had muscles, sure, but they carried a fair amount of flab on them because the armor did all the work for them. This man was totally shredded, nothing but giant slabs of muscle over more muscle, and his skin tight flight suit hid nothing. That face was the least of his charms. I looked at that thick, muscular ass crossing the room to lock the door and my pants were awful tight by the time he turned around.

He caught me staring, not that I was trying to hide it. 'Why are you staring at me? Did soldiers in your time wear...' I cut him off.

'I'm not looking at your clothes, Danse. Watching you walk over there just made me realize I might have asked for the wrong reward, that's all.' His blush was immediate and adorable. If I didn't already know how uptight he was, watching him almost stroke out over a single compliment would have confirmed it. He was so uncomfortable, I took pity on him. I figured I knew how this was going to go if I played my cards right, at least I knew how I hoped it was going to go. 'Pull up a seat, take a load off. Want some water? I've got a can you can have.'

'I... yes, if it is convenient. I can repay you when we arrive back at the station. I appreciate the offer.' I passed him a can, mentally thanking my crazy prepper neighbor who stocked a bomb shelter but never got inside the thing. He gingerly took a seat, but was sitting ramrod stiff, balanced on the edge of his chair. 'I hope you understand, this discussion is purely for the purposes of understanding pre-war military technology. My presence is not meant to imply the potential of any inappropriate personal contact.'

'No, didn't take it that way at all. You made your opinion of my suggestion quite clear. Still nice to talk with another soldier, after all.' I was going to get a headache from resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I knew it. I felt like a lion, watching the antelope approach the water and bend down to drink.

Now he seemed to relax a bit, and those big brown doe eyes were back on me. 'So, you said you would...' he trailed off. The interested smell came back, and I tried to sniff unobtrusively. Excited Danse was better than any cologne.

'Yep. So, to answer your question, yeah, it hurt a lot. I have scars pretty much everywhere from it. The worst was the acclimatization process, as the eggheads called it... basically your body getting used to having a whole lot of weird items in it doing new things to your muscles and blood chemistry. Neural enhancers, supplementary enzyme and hormone pumps, graphene muscle layers, fast-twitch relays, the works. I spent a few months accidentally hurting myself and projectile vomiting, we all did. That's where we got our motto, 'puke to start us, nuke to stop us'. Because the whole process starts with months of throwing up.'

'What does the rest of the motto mean?' Danse was clearly fascinated. He was leaning forward, eyes slightly dilated, respiration increased. I laughed, and Danse assumed it was in response to his question. Without seeming to be aware of it, he reached up and pulled off his hood. Thick, glossy black hair stood up, disheveled from being compressed under that hood. Before the war, he would have been a shampoo model. Now I fought back the urge to moan and run my fingers through it. Far too soon for something like that. Focus.

'Oh, nuke to stop us?" I put on my best teasing voice, arched an eyebrow. 'Danse... you saw me fight today. I wasn't holding back. I think you know what it means.' He licked his lips, and I knew I had him. I felt the sight of that soft, pink tongue all the way down to my groin. Hmm... maybe time to take a risk. I slid my feet down onto the floor and slid over towards him, not too close, but within touching range. I pitched my voice low and non-threatening. 'I'm faster, stronger, tougher than a norm. That would be you.' I pressed a finger gently into his bulky pectoral muscle and he unconsciously tensed, leaned into it a tiny bit. I slid my fingertip downwards towards his nipple, gently enough to claim it was an accident. His breath caught, but I'm sure he thought I couldn't hear it. 'I can move in bursts so fast I can't be seen. You saw that today. I can hide better than anyone not wearing a Stealth Boy, and move at top speed, silently, without tripping mines. My augments integrated perfectly; I get full function. Not everyone was so lucky. But I was.'

'That is...' his voice was hoarse. Seemed to have something in his throat, funny thing. He cleared it, tried again. 'Incredible. I saw your amazing display of combat prowess. I have to say I was quite impressed.' His eyes were everywhere on me, examining my arms and legs, presumably for scars. I didn't think I was mistaken though when I thought they lingered a bit too long in areas that weren't used for normal combat. Not surprising, I knew my groin was noticeable; my cock hadn't been fully soft since I sat down. I was looking back at him in that tight flight suit, wondering if I was going to be permitted to unwrap this prize. I really hoped so.

At this point, I figured I might as well try to get this party started. 'I could show you my scars... if you want to see them.' He flushed again, and apparently realized that he had been staring. His eyes looked into mine with an expression of lust overlaid with panic, but I was smiling and calm. 'Purely for scientific purposes, of course. Understanding pre-war military tech. You know.'

'For... right. For understanding. Tech. Nothing inappropriate in that.' He was breathing heavily through his nose, almost hyperventilating. His eyes were dilated so far they were just pools of black, barely any trace of that rich, gorgeous brown left. He smelled like pure lust, a rolling cloud of pheromones that made my groin ache just from the scent of him. In spite of myself, I admired the rigid self control that kept trying to keep him on the straight and narrow when he wanted so very much to be doing something else. There were two men in there, Danse and the Paladin, and they were duking it out for control of his behavior. I still wasn't convinced that he was consciously aware of how badly he wanted to fuck me. It was like a window into a whole other state of mind, a whole other world. I had never had that iron self-control, never wanted it. Most of the time, I thought that sort of self-denial was useless at best, dangerous at worst. But it gave Danse a sort of armor that I thought was really sexy to break down and get inside of. If I was fighting him, I would peel him out of his T-60, but to fuck him I had to peel him out of his inner armor, get him out from under the controlling thumb of the Paladin.

I stood up and took off my leather coat, throwing it on a nearby chair. His lips quirked disapprovingly; I should have realized he didn't like disorder. Normally I wouldn't care about his opinion, but under the circumstances, it cost me nothing to meet him halfway. I picked it up, folded it neatly, and set it back down, then smiled at him. Without a word, I peeled off my t-shirt and revealed my patchwork body. My muscles were lean and flat, not bulky like his, but the scars made a map of pain and achievement across my body like nothing else. Each major muscle had its own thin incision. Some linked together in knotted coils, some were discrete, standalone lines. Nora used to call it my 'artwork', but as canvases go I thought I could have had better. Some of the other Auggies I knew had tattoos over it, turning it into actual art, but I always thought that was silly.

Danse was rapt. His hand came up, but hesitated. Even in the depths of his fascination, he knew that touching someone else was a commitment on some level. I took his hand in mine, caressed his thick, callused fingers and pressed his hand against my chest where several of the scars came together. 'You can touch,' I whispered softly. 'I don't mind.' One of the side effects of the treatments was that my whole body was smooth and hairless, even under my arms, my groin, almost like a child. No child had these diagrams scarred into their flesh, though. My skin was tougher than it should be, but soft. I could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips.

He whined softly, and his fingers tensed. Despite everything, the internal Paladin was fighting Danse for control with every resource it had. Slowly, his hand started moving, slid along my chest, along my pectoral, and up to my shoulder. The lines that went up my shoulders into my neck were heavy, since a lot of the neuro-pumps and enzyme chambers were inserted through there. He touched the scars lightly, barely a whisper, and slid his fingertips along my throat to my jaw, up to my ear. There were no scars that went that high; another line had been crossed. His face looked pained, like an animal in a trap; the war going on in his head was showing clearly in his expression. When his hand slid along my hairline, I turned my head and kissed his wrist, let my tongue slide out and touch his salty flesh. His arm smelled like machine oil and sweat. He grunted like I had punched him and his eyes were locked onto me as I lipped his wrist, chewed softly on the pad of flesh at the base of his hand. Amazingly, he tried to speak.

'I... can't... we... this...' I shushed him with one finger across those beautiful, full lips. They were as soft as I had hoped they would be. I thought for a second about how ironic this moment was. If this had gone like I initially hoped, if Danse had been a little less challenging, I would have missed out on so much, I thought. This gorgeous mouth would have been on my dick, or not even that, and then he would have left and I would have gone on, not knowing that I had been so close to so much treasure. Now that I saw it, though, I wanted it. All of it. His flight suit was showing signs of an impressive erection trapped inside, pressing obscenely against the padded orange fabric. I wanted to touch, but I knew that if I just grabbed it, he would cut and run. This was a man at war with himself, and a direct assault would be too much. I leaned close enough that my lips were almost on his ear.

'There are more.' I said softly, almost whispering. 'Scars.' He gazed at me, drinking me with his eyes. I wondered if he could even hear me. 'If you want to see.' He moaned softly, swallowed, gave a half nod. I nodded back, and saying 'Okay' I took his hands, put them on the fastener to my pants. Come on, Danse, I thought, you can do it. Take some action. He stood frozen for a few seconds longer than I thought were comfortable, worried I had guessed wrong, but then I felt him fumbling with the catch. The pop of my pants button coming loose sent a shock through me, but not as much as the feeling of his hands sliding into the top of my road leathers, sliding the pants down. His hands slid along the scars on my quads, tracing them where they slid around the front of my legs and up my thighs. My own erection was obvious, tenting my briefs out, but he carefully avoided it. Not ready for that yet, it seemed. The scars slid up under my briefs, but he stopped before chasing them there and swallowed again. I moved my legs restlessly, trying to work the leather down over them, but he leaned down and pulled my pants the rest of the way down for me so I could step out of them. Now I was standing in front of him in nothing but briefs. His hands were all over me, sliding from my chest to my equally hairless legs, leaning over to run them down my smooth shins. He knelt down and my breath caught in my throat for a moment, but he just ran his hand over the tops of my bare feet, tracing the scars that ran along the tendons to my big toes.

I reached down and touched his flight suit. Once I touched him, I could feel him trembling, fighting himself at such a deep level even his own body didn't know which way to go. Catching his eye I pitched my voice low and soft, said 'Your muscles are impressive, you must work very hard at your body. You keep yourself in perfect shape. You've seen my body, my scars... can I see this project you've worked so hard on?' Keep it impersonal, I sensed... not get naked, never that, but show me your artwork, your beautiful, wonderful machine. Danse grunted, surprised, but reached his hand up and popped the snap on his flight suit. I couldn't wait for him, even though I worried I was rushing him. I reached out and touched the zipper and slid it slowly down, sliding the orange fabric away from his olive skin where he knelt on the floor. When I got to his waist he reached up, gripped my wrist, and stopped me. I glanced over at him, worried I would see the Paladin winning again, but he just looked at me hungrily while he pulled first one arm, then the other from the suit. God, he was glorious. Massive traps standing up like hills, broad pecs covered by a spreading carpet of black fur that trailed down over his abs, each intercostal defined, lats like wings... So gorgeous, this man. I let my appreciation show in my face and said 'Amazing.' I reached out my hands, feathered my fingers softly through the dense, coarse hair on his chest, cupped his furry pec, rubbed his pebbled hard nipple with my thumb. 'So much work here, so much devotion. Beautiful.' He exhaled sharply. He leaned his head back, corded neck exposed. He couldn't know what that show of vulnerability did to me, but he couldn't have played me better if he had known me for years. I almost came in my underwear without a touch just from the exquisite trust he showed me in that moment. At that instant, I realized with a bit of discomfort that I had been caught in my own trap. I was seducing myself at the same time I was seducing him, reminding myself step by step of how good it could be when things were right and we could take our time.

I leaned forward, inhaling his scent directly from his skin. The smell of his arousal hit me like a freight train, pheromones making my nerves skitter and leap in my body. I reached out, grabbed the edges of his suit, and started sliding them down. 'Show me the quads,' I murmured. 'I know your legs must be unbelievable.' He sighed, stood, and I slid the zipper down to the bottom, pushed his flight suit down. He wasn't wearing underwear. His cock was massively thick, rigid, gloriously erect, head protruding from a heavy foreskin, projecting like a fist in front of him. Two large balls nestled underneath, potent. A string of precum trailed down from his cock's tip like drool. Black hair swirled down from his abs and feathered out across his pubes, down across heavy thighs. Seeing that, my suspicions of where I wanted this encounter to go crystallized into certainty. This man was going to fuck me or I was going to die of wanting him to. I was staring and I knew it, but I couldn't help it. His legs were thick, massive, like columns. Quads the size of my waist, calves like bowling balls. Even seeing him in the flight suit hadn't done him justice, this man was visual poetry. My breath left me in a gasp. I tried to push my underwear down, but as soon as I hooked my thumbs in the waistband his heavy hands came over mine. I whined, convinced he was trying to stop me, but he pushed my hands out of the way and used his own fingers to pull them down, tenderly lifting the waistband around my painfully hard cock. My head was swirling. I knew I had lost the plot completely, because I was so turned on I couldn't even breathe and we had barely even touched. Never in my entire life had anyone gotten me unstrung like this. Touch, I thought dazedly. Yes. Touch was a good thing.

I bent over and pressed my lips against that column of muscular neck, licking along his jawline. His brows were down, tense, beetled, and he looked almost angry, jaw clenched with lust. I sucked his earlobe and he moaned, a soft wanting noise. Then his hands came up tentatively and suddenly wrapped around my back and dragged me towards him. Now I was pressed against that amazing chest. Scratchy fur rubbed against my skin, our legs intertwined and our cocks touched, we both gasped at the contact. I heard a series of short whines and wondered why he was making that sound, then realized it was coming from me. I was trying to be careful and not let my strength get the better of me; one of the dangers of the augments was losing control in moments like this. I'd been warned about it, but never been in a situation where I couldn't control it. I'd had other partners, men and women, but none of them, not even Nora, got me to where I was out of control, in danger of not knowing my own strength. Now, though, for the first time I understood the warnings. This man was like a drug. Danse was strong, but he wasn't strong enough to take an Auggie at full throttle, no norm was. I could feel my arms and legs tensing and relaxing, trying to go into combat mode because my endorphin levels were spiking. I ran my hands down his arms, twining my fingers into his before pulling back, realizing that was a bad idea in the pre-combat flush. Broken fingers are not sexy. I let my urgency come through in my voice, hoping it sounded horny rather than worried.

'If you have oil in your mech kit, now would be a great time to get it.' He looked at me, confused for a moment, then I watched realization bloom on his face. I worried that he would suddenly snap to, throw his clothes on, run away. The Paladin was always watching and waiting for a chance to ruin the fun. My hands rose up and grabbed his pecs again, almost of their own volition, rubbing his nipples and sliding through the fur. Danse shuddered and nodded, then stood and quickly strode naked over to the chest compartment of his power armor. Within seconds, he was back with a bottle of clear, scentless oil. I moaned, putting some on my hand while I leaned over and tasted the nipples I had just felt, nibbling and biting at them. He cried out, hands cradling my head against him, and I wanted so much to stay like this for hours, just tasting him, smelling him, being wrapped around him. Not safe, though, I reminded myself. Not safe, not now. 'I want you.' I felt stupid even saying it, he knew that, obviously I wanted him. I rubbed the oil along that thick cock and he groaned and humped into my fist. 'Wait,' I said. I rubbed some into my ass, wishing I had time to prepare more completely. This was going to hurt, at least a bit. Probably a lot.

'My augments aren't safe for some things. Let me turn over and we can...' His breath hissed out, clearly his mind completed my sentence for me. I felt momentarily bad because I wanted to see him, see his face when he went in, see his face when he came, but safety first. I turned around, put my hands on the back of the couch and flexed them, making fists and ripping chunks out of the wooden frame of the couch. I heard a gasp from behind me as Danse got a firsthand look at what I meant by 'unsafe'. I should have remembered that he found such displays erotic, not threatening. Suddenly there was a very thick cock pressing urgently against my hole. I reached back, wrapped my oily hand around it, and eased it in. As I suspected it would, it hurt a lot. He went in faster than I wanted, and I wasn't prepared, and he was devilishly thick, but it was wonderful even so. Even pain is good when you're turned on enough. Soon he was slotted into me, and I was so full, so very full, and it was amazing. His hairy chest felt as good as I knew it would pressed into my back.

'Fuck me' I gasped breathlessly. He moved a little, seeming to be unsure of how much he could move, how fast he could go, and I gave a frustrated whimper. I wanted those quads to get used, wanted that muscular ass to get into it. 'Move,' I demanded, pulling his ass hard against me. I squeezed that tree limb of a cock with my ass muscles and he groaned like he was dying; lucky for him those particular muscles weren't augmented. He pulled halfway out and slammed back in, roughly scraping across my prostate. Yes, like that. Just like that. A wave of pleasure went through me from toes to head, and my hands crushed another couple of handfuls of wood and stuffing out of the increasingly broken couch. Danse moaned at the sight and fucked me harder. Each time he went over my prostate, the world went white. 'Put your muscles in it,' I moaned, 'fuck me!' He was slamming into me now, and growling. He wasn't going to last long, and neither was I; his cock could have been designed in a laboratory to hit my prostate every possible way from this angle. Heaven would be this, forever. He leaned forward over me, now I could feel his whole body tense as he stabbed me repeatedly, gloriously, with that perfect cock. Each contraction of his abs pressed sweaty fur the length of my back; his arms were flexed, propping him up beside me, close enough that I could feel them bracing against me. I could feel my orgasm building. I was going to cum without touching myself, something I had only heard of in stories. I was panting now, arms and legs spasming quick and out of control. I was so close, and he was too, I could tell from the sound of his harsh breath in my ear. His mouth was so close to my neck, so close... 'Bite me' I whispered quietly. I didn't even think he heard me, but then he bit. Hard. Right where my neck met my shoulder, I felt his teeth latch on and that was enough, more than enough. I was cumming like a freight train was running through me, blowing all over what was left of the destroyed sofa in shots and jets of white, and he was too, spasming deep inside me, painting me with his seed. Little whimpers came from him as I slowly spiraled down from my orgasm, completely relaxed. I toyed with the idea of asking him to marry me, but I knew that particular comment wouldn't be appreciated at all. His softening cock finally slipped out of me, and I turned around and pressed a kiss against his mouth, unsure of my reception but hoping. He sat unmoving for a second, then gently returned the kiss, eyes surprised and a little scared. I licked his bottom lip and sucked it and he whined, then I released it and snuggled against him, raising one hand and finally running it through that thick, gorgeous hair.

'I've never... I mean...' he stammered. I was a bit shocked; surely some other man had seen this amazing body before me.

'You've never... what? Had sex with another man?' I said.

'With... anyone. Really. Um.' He was crimson again. Now I was truly floored. What kind of bizarre life did people have in this Brotherhood he talked so much about, if nobody had ever fucked this unbelievably sexy man? I would think he was full of shit if my earlier interaction with him hadn't convinced me that he was no more capable of lying than he was killing and eating a baby.

'That's... hard to believe. You're a natural at it, then.' Danse grinned, quite pleased, before he caught himself. I wasn't surprised, who didn't want to be told that after their first fuck? But I wasn't lying, not even a little bit. If Danse was a drug, I was already hooked.

'Is it, um, is it always like that? It was just so... good,' he said, looking away with embarrassment. I felt my cock twitch at the expression. Much more of Danse acting sweet and coy and I'd be ready for round two.

'No, babe,' I said, and he looked up in surprise at the form of address, 'it's almost never like that. That was about as good as it gets, maybe even the best. I've had a fair amount of sex in my time, and I don't know that any of it was as good as that. You're fucking amazing. And amazing at fucking,' I added, wanting to see him blush crimson. He didn't disappoint. I kissed him again, but this time he drew back, the inner censor already berating him from inside his mind. After a moment's internal struggle, clearly visible on his face, Danse got up and began quickly putting on his orange flight suit. As soon as it was on, back went the hood, hiding that beautiful mane of hair. I could have cried.

'This was... very inappropriate of me.' Ah, there's the Paladin again. Bastard. Didn't miss him at all. 'I apologize for my inexcusable conduct.'

'It was very excusable. As if there was anything to be excused for. Everything you did, I wanted you to do. You're welcome to do it again, or anything else like it that takes your fancy, to me, with me or for me at any time.' I slid my hands, my calm, back in my control hands, over his beautiful delts, down his biceps, admiring the rippling muscles under the flight suit. 'Just so we're clear on that.' So fuck right off, Paladin, and give me back my Danse, I thought sourly. He flinched a little, and I wasn't sure whether it was from ticklishness or just that I wasn't following the shame-and-blame script with him.

'I... you're too kind. Still, this sort of fraternization with locals is explicitly forbidden by regulations. When I return to the Brotherhood, I will remand myself for medical examination and disciplinary action.' Danse was getting more and more tense as he got himself in trouble in his own mind. The Paladin was back, and he was mad as a motherfucker. I knew I was wasting my time arguing with him at this point.

'Well, Danse, you do what you feel like you have to do. I just want you to know that I will be around, and I'll stop in from time to time until you throw me out. And you are welcome to do anything with me that your little heart desires, regulations or not. And,' I added mischievously, knowing how the military mind worked from up close and personal, 'I'd remind you that if you do feel you have to turn yourself in, anything you do until then is covered in that first remand, whether you do it once or a hundred times.' He spluttered, caught completely off guard.

'That is the most shameless, disgraceful...' The Paladin got a better grip on the mouth, which firmed unpleasantly. He whirled around, heading for his power armor. Soon the hiss of hydraulics was loud, sealing him back safely inside the chassis, away from me and my dangerous ideas. 'Your advice is utterly inappropriate, civilian. I will take such steps as I deem fit. However, I do apologize again for my conduct, which was most unbecoming of an officer.' Danse looked away uncomfortably. 'And I would respectfully request that you not give any indication of... what transpired here... to anyone else.' Right, please don't tell my subordinates that I had my cock up your ass, very bad for morale. It's a good thing for you that you're such an amazing fuck, Danse, or I'd beat the shit out of you as a going away present for acting like such a complete dickhead.

'No worries on that front, I wouldn't tell your business anyway. I understand completely. You should get back to the station, who knows what your kids have gotten up to in your absence. As I said, I'll stop back by in a while, though, see how you guys are holding out. Collect that water you owe me. Maybe we can go on another mission, I can show off my tech, we can compare equipment.' I snorted, unable to control myself, and the look on Danse's face was magnificent. 'Combat capabilities, that sort of thing.' I threw in, after a slightly too-long pause.

'Unlikely.' Sure, Paladin, easy to say now. We'll see what your boy Danse thinks about that when he's had a chance to build up another week or so's worth of horny. 'Be safe. Ad victoriam!' Danse unlocked the door and quickly cycled through it. I was a little worried that he would lock the door out of spite and make me go through the laborious crawl to come out the back, but when I tried it, it was open. No sign of the good Paladin, of course; he was late for an appointment with his Bible, hair shirt and bullwhip. Shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all, I headed off into the Commonwealth, wondering if I would ever get him out of that armor again. God, I hoped so.


	2. Ad Victoriam Redux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sticky returns to the Police Station, and Danse has been Thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some notes on where this diverges from Canon. Basically, the SoSu is really the Sole Survivor. Codsworth ran out of fuel; Nora and Shaun died in the blast. There's no Institute coming into the Vault, and the SoSu is a modified borderline psychopath. He's charming, but he's nuts. I'm not lying; you were warned. Seriously graphic violence in places, here.

I made it for ten days before I found myself drawn back to the police station. I had a lot of strengths, but impulse control wasn't one of them. I had been thinking about it a lot. Well, if I was being honest with myself, I'd been thinking about Paladin Danse a lot. Wishing I had more access to the Danse part and trying to figure out ways I could get rid of or suppress the Paladin part. That ten days opened my eyes quite a bit to just how different things were now.

Boston was _really_ fucked, I mean FUBAR. Pretty much everywhere I went, something jumped out of the landscape and tried to eat me. It was never boring, and I had a fair amount of fun using my bat to take out raiders and ghouls. Considerably less fun the time I ran into a scorpion the size of a horse; I was faster than it was, but that was a bit dodgy and I wasn't sorry to find out that it was fragile. At one point I found a group of friendlies in Concord, all civilians, holed up in a museum of all things. Other than the Brotherhood crew in Cambridge, I hadn't seen anyone else who wasn't immediately aggressive, didn't even think such people existed any more. These folks were in a situation so weird that it caught my attention. They had a bunch of heavily armed junkies trying to kill them, because that seemed to be what passed for fun here in latter-day Mass. I guess it seemed like a good idea when they were so hopped up on Psycho and Jet that things weren't too clear, or maybe the little voices told them to. Who the fuck knows. But once I took out the raiders (which is what they call these roving bands of junkies), I got into the room where this little refugee group was holed up and... for their sake, I hope they had some guards hidden in their bags, because they were the most useless collection of organ-sacks I'd ever seen. I wondered how the hell they had made it this far. They all stank, just reeked of misery and fear and that sour smell of 'I've given up'. Not much hope once people get that smell.

Seriously, even for civilians they were pathetic. The only one who looked like he could stand under his own power was dressed like a hillbilly, and wasn't even carrying a weapon. He was a big dude, even bigger than Danse, and I thought for a second he was another Auggie; there was something about the way he moved that reminded me of some of the guys from the 89th. Apparently not, though. No way the junkies would have been able to corner everybody if he was still up and mobile. In addition to him, there was a lady old enough to have been born in my time without a Vault to freeze her, and two losers who just looked crazy or strung out. They were being led by a guy wearing some sort of Revolutionary War uniform who was carrying what he called a 'laser musket'; Mr. Gadget Danse might have been interested, at least in theory, but it was the most cobbled-together, pathetic pile of shit I'd seen in a while. If that was what passed for weaponry with the friendlies, maybe I should have taken that stupid rifle of Danse's just to show off. I told him his gun was sad and he made a poopy face, which got me laughing. Turned out there was a lot more junkies where the first ones came from - I asked him if he and the folks had burned down a drug house or something to piss all these guys off, but he didn't get the joke. They told me where I could get a suit of power armor and a minigun and all this other crap, and apparently assumed I was just waiting for a chance to be of service to them specifically, like it was my job. Seemed pretty naive, to assume I would suddenly be their best friend just because I thought it would be cool to kill some bandits. It was clear how they ended up trapped in a museum. 

Mr. Silly Outfit did give me some interesting information about the new Boston area and what used to be Massachusetts, now called 'the Commonwealth'. Also explained the bottle caps I kept finding stashes of, like Danse tried to give me. Bottle caps as money... I couldn't even make this shit up. What the hell next? Scrap paper? Just about when I was enjoying the conversation, though, this dude started trying to put the hard sell on me to help them, so I told him to fuck off and left. I did kill some more junkies, because they were there and I figured it would be neighborly, but then things went tits up in a big way. This giant scaly thing that looked like a Chinese dragon fucked a kangaroo crawled out of a hole and started chewing up raiders like it was getting paid to do it and was already late for a date afterwards. I wished the folks in the museum a fond farewell from a distance and headed out. Best of luck with that, amigos. Hope your glorified laser pointer has a dragon killing setting. On the upside, I did get the head off one raider aimed so accurately I killed another one with it, so that was a highlight of the day. I kind of missed having other Auggies around when I was fighting; who do you show off for when it's just you? At least with Danse I had someone to look impressed when I did something cool, even if he was mostly a dickhead when he was in Paladin mode.

Just outside of Concord, tragedy struck. I got into a serious dust-up with some sort of giant green things. They looked vaguely human but with more muscles even than Danse, but luckily they were dumber than a Chinese bomb-bot. Still, it was a strike team of four and one of them tried to run me down with an actual mini-nuke! That's the first time in the three weeks since I left the Vault that I've actually had a moment of concern, but I was able to top-speed it away before it detonated itself. They were surprisingly tough, and it's hard to find the weak spots in something you've never seen before, but given that they were practically naked I wasn't too bothered. Just like humans, they had trouble concentrating on hitting anything else when they were missing one or both knees. Sadly, they did the worst injury to me of anything I'd met since leaving the Vault. I was trying to pull my favorite trick and get the head off one of them in one hit, surprisingly difficult because not only were they tough as boot leather but so tall I was having trouble reaching their little stubby heads. I was enjoying the challenge until my fun came to an end in the worst possible way; my bat snapped. The one I hit had a helmet on, and that plus the super-dense bone made my lovely bat crack right in two. Those bastards killed my best friend! Mr. Helmet was the last one, so I left the two broken pieces of the bat jammed into his eye sockets to indicate to any other big green freaks wandering around that I was a little aggravated with them right now. At that point, I was bored, disarmed and needed a new bat, so I figured Cambridge would probably offer a better chance of finding something useful than Concord or Lexington. Nothing to do with the police station and a certain handsome man in T-60, nope, not a thing.

I was racking my brain to think of a sporting goods store in Cambridge. I didn't come near the college if I could help it before the war; the egghead-to-human ratio was unacceptably high, through the stratosphere, and the levels of pretentiousness were deadly. Last time I was down this way, Nora was tending to Shaun and I had to come pick up some paperwork from the Military Affairs and Recruitment office on campus. Of course, some well-intentioned kid who was all of eighteen was outside protesting with his friends. Felt the need to 'explain' the war to me, and tell me about how the Chinese were kind, gentle, loving farmers and scientists who only wanted to be left alone to pursue their peaceful ways. I suggested to him that since he had never seen China and I had personally been to China on a government paid tour, that since I had seen the square miles of flesh farms and organ towers at Yu Ning, the hives and swarming legions of vat soldiers bred to fight in Xao Guei and he hadn't, that he might invest in finding out what he was talking about before flapping his lip. Of course he wouldn't listen. Made me sad, more than anything. Our side wasn't anything to brag about for sure, but to claim the Chinese gengineers were angels was laughable at best.

Of course, Cambridge was a morass of ghouls. I should have known, given what happened at the police station. Someone must have been shipping them in; given that we killed at least thirty of them in the fight ten days before, I didn't see how there could be so many. And me with no bat. I missed my polymer club so much I could have cried. I pulled the head off the one that spotted me, quick and quiet, but I could tell that just touching it that much was probably going to have me glowing green after a few more. God they stank, and the reek of rotting raider corpses combined with that funky ghoul smell to produce a truly nauseating aroma. There were dead raiders scattered everywhere; apparently when the ghoul truck pulled up the locals weren't expecting the delivery. I scavenged a machete off of one dead raider, though it looked to be in bad shape, and found a pool cue on another that seemed to have been used as a club. Worth a try, right?

My luck was par for the course. The first ghoul I hit with the machete was a kill but the machete blew into more pieces than the ghoul, almost got shrapnel in me. Piece of shit. The pool cue wasn't much better, it lasted for two hits but when it snapped, the end came around and whacked me in the arm. Hurt like a motherfucker, even with my pain suppressors. The only upside was that it wasn't my leg, because with no weapon, it was time to haul ass. Luckily the ghouls were brain-cooked, and once I was out of sight they forgot about me pretty damn quick. I knew it was only a matter of time before my luck ran completely out, though, and seeing the night coming on out here and the lights of the station in the distance I thought, eh, what the hell. What's the worst that can happen? He throws me out on my ass and I have to go somewhere else. A hit in the pride is worth two in the nuts, as the Army saying goes. Besides, some water and a place to sleep would do wonders for my increasingly sore arm. I was out of stimpaks.

I barely got through the door before plucky young knight Rhys was in my face, all ego and attitude. The house might be open but clearly the dog was jumpy. 'What do you want here, civilian?' Rhys smelled like anger and frustration, along with really needing a bath. Sour breath wafted into my face and not for the first time, I cursed my olfactory augments. Danse was clomping around somewhere in the back, I could hear the armor, but he wasn't in sight. I laughed inside. Only Mr. Gadget Danse would wear his power armor just to wander around during the course of the day. Rhys audibly gritted his teeth, and I hoped I wasn't going to have to deliver some personal instruction to Mr. Friendly here; I didn't want to step on Danse's dick any more than I had. Maybe something else... but first things first.

'Since you ask, I'd love a reinforced steel-core polymer Manual Force Projection Tool, Military Part Number CLR-9783-T42B, made by Tarquin. Got one handy?' Rhys screwed his face up, apparently he wasn't the quartermaster. Who knew?

'Oh, a joker. Well turn around and take your jokes and yourself back outside. This is a Brotherhood of Steel location and unauthorized...' Rhys was clearly one of those soldiers who thought they were part lawyer, quoting rules and regulations and operational procedures at everyone. He was probably the kid nobody would play games with because he was obsessed with the rules. I was completely uninterested in his rules and him.

'Seems like the stick up your ass has a pretty high tensile rating, why don't you pull it out and let me give it a few swings?' I said. A snort of laughter came from where the pretty little Scribe was sitting; who knew she had a sense of humor? I decided I might like her.

Rhys growled 'Look, asshole,' at me just as the good Paladin came around the corner behind him. I grinned at Danse, who looked briefly surprised, but Rhys apparently thought I was grinning at him. He looked about ready to lunge at me, and while that would be both entertaining and instructional for most of the people in the room, the big sexy man in the tin can would be Very Upset with me. See how life ruins all my fun?

'Sonny, I don't know you, but I'll give you a free word of advice. I can pull your head off your neck and shit down your breath hole before you can ball up your fist. Ask your CO if you don't believe me.' Rhys realized Danse was right behind him about that time and got the usual 'oh shit' face folks do at times like that. 'I'd step back and be civil if I were you.'

'Stand down, Rhys. That's enough,' came Danse's brusque instruction. 

'But sir...' Rhys whined. I was already getting bored. This was sitcom level drama, and we all knew how this scene played out. Now Danse will pull rank and...

'I said enough. Knight Rhys, have a seat.' Ah, there's the Paladin. Predictable as a clock, and about as exciting. I wondered how my Danse was doing in there, and if the ten days had been enough to build up some pressure to convince him to blow off some steam with me again. 'Good to see you again, civilian. I owe you a can of water, I believe.' Well, well, things were looking up. That's a hell of a lot more friendly than I got even pre-fuck last time. I suspect someone's been thinking naughty thoughts.

'Kind of you, Paladin. My thanks. I met your dog,' Rhys sneered at me as I waved in his direction, 'but who's this charming young lady?' The young lady in question blushed and giggled, despite wearing an outfit that looked like the artist for Grognak designed a combat nun. Who the hell came up with these clothes, anyway? She smelled cleaner than Rhys by far; come to think of it Danse didn't stink either. So Rhys was one of those men who decided it made him more manly to subject everyone to his funk. Should have guessed, really.

Danse put on his best officer face. 'This is Scribe Haylen. She provides quartermaster services, research, field technical work, and is a talented medic. She's exceptional at all of it. We're lucky to have her.' Watching her reaction to this little speech, I wondered if Danse knew that Scribe Haylen wanted to get in his pants so bad she dreamed about him at night. Probably not. I knew from firsthand experience how clueless he was.

'Truly a pleasure to meet you, ma'am.' I even gave a little bow, never hurts to ham it up. Besides I knew it would get up Rhys' nose, and sure enough, right on cue he snorted and got an angry look, glaring at me like a little kid. That boy was desperately in need of an ass whipping. Whoever raised him didn't do a very good job. 'Name's Adrian Cuthbert, but call me Sticky. Everyone does.' When Rhys glared at me and looked like he was about to speak up, I cut him off. 'Not you, Sonny. You call me Mr. Cuthbert. You aren't fit to be part of everyone.' He got so red in the face I thought he was about to have a stroke. Danse put his hand over his eyes and shook his head.

'That's quite enough,' Danse said. I sighed and rolled my eyes, but his house, his rules. 'Let's all at least pretend to get along.' A joke? What the hell? Danse, is that you in there? Does the Paladin know you've got the mouth? Tap once for yes, twice for no! My snickering at my own jokes apparently was misinterpreted, as he sighed and shook his head. 'Did you need something?'

'Actually...' I said, thinking fast. 'I know this was the police station. Any chance I could look around in here for a nightstick or something? My bat broke, and without a club I'm at a bit of a disadvantage considering how radioactive the natives are in this part of the world.' Danse's suspicious face cleared quickly. With his permission, I rummaged the whole place, top to bottom. I found a few of those folding coshes and truncheons, but those were far too short. A few stimpaks were hidden in a police medkit, and I was finally able to heal my arm a bit. At last, buried in the bottom of the evidence room lockers, I came across a glorious treasure. I could have wept. An aluminum baseball bat, almost pristine, and it even had a bloodstain already on it! Someone had been kind enough to field test it for me, so I knew it worked. Now that's service! I tried to read the tag in with it just for the story, but two hundred years didn't mix well with cheap pencil and shitty paper, so it was completely illegible. I gave it a swing and it was perfectly balanced, even better than the wood one. The aluminum wouldn't break, either, no matter how many big green bastards I decapitated with it. Danse heard me whooping and yelling, so he came to check on me and just straight out laughed when he saw how happy I was, bouncing around swinging my new toy. I had never heard him laugh before and I liked it. God, this bastard even had a sexy laugh. Where do they make men like this?

'Able to secure a functional weapon?' he asked. I was so happy, and I turned around and looked up at him. He was half-smiling and the look on his face and his eyes and those eyebrows and my memory of what he looked like inside that armor... holy shit, I could have jumped him right there. Apparently it showed on my face because his face shut down faster than a blast door. Shit, shit, shit. I hoped I hadn't made a mess. I could have kicked myself, but hey... I've never been known for my impulse control.

'Yes,' I said, figuring I would follow his lead and retreat into formality. 'This is great, the metal bat is a significant upgrade. Closest civilian equivalent I can get to one of our old polymer bats. Can't imagine there are any of them left, at least not anywhere I could get one. Maybe some military warehouse out in the middle of Kansas somewhere has pallets of them sitting around, but Boston?' I shook my head dolefully. Danse seemed to appreciate my efforts to pull back and nodded.

'After the war, things were chaotic to say the least. The Brotherhood has access to some of the old military records and resources, I could have the Scribes at the Citadel see if we have one, or at least a lead on where to look.' Now this was news, the Brotherhood had started out military? That explained a lot. 'Speaking of Scribes,' Danse said with an uncomfortable look, 'I have a favor to ask.' Uh oh, I thought, here we go. If you try to get me to take little miss Haylen out on a recon mission I'm going to tell you to fuck off, and that's going to be awkward. I'm not a babysitter. Still, I figured, hear him out.

'Sure, what's up?' I asked, leaning against the remains of an old file cabinet. This place reeked of dust and mold; I couldn't imagine how they could stand to stay in here.

'Haylen has identified another site that has a critical component, Satellite Station Olivia. It's a listening post, originally staffed by the Air Force, approximately a day's travel to the north. Her research indicates that there was a stash of flux sensors kept there in an underground installation secure room.' Oh god, he is... he's going to ask me to take cute little Haylen on a deathmarch. No fucking way. 'I would normally ask you to escort Haylen there or go with her myself, but it is likely extremely unsafe. I thought perhaps we could go together and make better time.' So he seriously expects me to... wait, what? My mental record skipped.

'Uh,' I said dumbly. 'You want me to... go with you? To Olivia?' He gave me a strange look, but nodded. 'Delighted to help, Paladin.' He smiled again, and I wondered if he was arranging what I thought he was arranging. I sniffed discreetly. He didn't smell excited, not that it would have been easy to tell over the mold, but this was almost too good to be true. If so, I had proof that someone had been thinking quite a bit about our last time together, and I was about to become the happiest man in the Commonwealth. Between the aluminum baseball bat and Danse, this might just turn out to be the best visit I had ever had to anywhere. I thought about Sanctuary. 'Come to think of it, I have the perfect place to show you after we finish there. Think the Brotherhood would have any interest in an empty pre-war Vault?' Sanctuary meant real houses... and real beds. Images of sex with Danse in a real bed flooded my mind, and it was all I could do not to groan out loud. He looked at me in shock. I hoped my face hadn't said too much again, but apparently it was the Vault this time, not me.

'A whole empty Vault? Wait, is this where you were... Ohhh.' He said. He looked a little uncomfortable at the idea, but still nodded emphatically. 'Yes, very much. The Scribes would have a field day in a pre-war location, and untouched like that? Who knows what sort of technical marvels are hidden away. That is valuable intel. Thank you. Now let me go tell Haylen that we are going to run the mission for her.' He turned around, but before he could leave, I spoke up.

'I'm as eager to get out in the field as you are, but I have a bit of an issue.' I rolled up my sleeve and showed him the welt from the broken cue. 'The stimpaks are healing it, but it would benefit from a good night's sleep somewhere safe. Can I bed down here somewhere tonight, and we can leave first thing in the morning?' My arm wasn't hurting any more, thanks to the pain suppressors, but I knew I wasn't at peak efficiency by any means.

'Of course.' He said. I probably imagined a moment of something else in his eyes, since his voice was all soldier. 'Combat readiness is mission critical. Stay where you like, and we can meet and head out at 0700.' I nodded and watched as he clomped away, clouds of dust following in his wake. I suspected I knew why it stank so much of dust and mold in here. I headed down into the garage steps where I could sleep in a brick area without the mold smell.

The next morning we headed out. Same drill as before during the ArcJet run, except this time Danse was profoundly awkward. Conversation was mostly nonexistent and what little there was was stilted and weird, even for him. I tried a few times to engage him, even talked about gadgets I thought he might be interested in, but he kept his breadbox on, his eyes front and his mouth shut. The most response I could get most of the time was a grunt. We skirted around the old Corvega plant, taking a few potshots from a snipers nest on top of the towers there, but they were more irritants than anything else. I guess that's the raider version of a 'go away' sign... random bullets. Sounded about right. If I'd had a sniper rifle, I'd probably have done the same thing, so I couldn't fault them. We took out a mole rat nest in the old drive in movie theater, but there was a scary looking water filled crater in the middle that made Danse's geiger counter start chattering; he even broke his silence to warn me off of it, which was appreciated. I was going crazy, wondering what his problem was. He was friendlier than normal the day before, even around his subordinates, but now that we're alone he's uncomfortable? Made no sense. It wasn't like I was going to jump his bones in the middle of the road, not that I didn't want to. Combat zones were no place for fucky-fucky unless you wanted to end up quite dead indeed, and the whole Boston area was one giant combat zone at this point.

Moving north, we skirted Concord and headed towards the giant dishes barely visible over the treetops. I wondered idly if the pack of losers ever made it out of the museum, or if they were still up there. They'd probably butchered and eaten the old lady by now, if they were. Laughing at that image, I almost fell over a feral dog which appeared out of nowhere. I blipped away and then back before Danse could react, bat swinging and the dog's body went flying into the air. I giggled at the flailing legs, but Danse wasn't amused. 'Eyes on, soldier,' he snapped. 'That was sloppy.'

I was tempted to snap back, but managed to restrain myself. He wasn't wrong, after all. 'Yep, sorry' I got out, then took point and headed out. He was probably irritated with me but I was seriously bored by now and ready to fight something, and his bad mood and general grumbliness wasn't a good match to my increasing boredom and horniness. Finally, an hour or so later, Olivia hove into view. There was a tiny building that was almost certainly not the extent of the outpost under the dishes, with an array maintenance shack up next to them and a raider shack built around to the side. Finally, some fun! I was looking forward to a real party, because this day had been boring and exhausting so far. It was already late afternoon, and other than the dog and some mole rats, there was no action at all. No sooner had we walked into view than we started taking fire from the maintenance shack. I told Danse, 'On it!' and scampered off. He sounded like he was trying to say something but no time, go go go speedy quick. The raider up there didn't see me coming up the ramp because he was sighting his rifle on Danse, like that little popgun he had was going to do anything to T-60 other than scratch the paint. I waited long enough to see the look on his face, because what can I say? We all have things that amuse us. When his jaw dropped and he started to turn, I blipped behind him and got to try my new bat out. Even with a slightly off swing, his head blew into tiny pieces. This was better than the wood bat by far! I just cackled because not only was I armed again, things were looking up. It was so much easier to blow heads up with the metal bat, though... I didn't want to get lazy, and the game would be too easy. I made a note that I needed to think up some new way to make it a little harder. First, though, there were more raiders to hunt.

I went back down to meet Danse, and the Paladin was in full cry, giving me a long tirade about combat protocol and orders and plans of attack and ohmigod you're sexy but shut up already. I tried to pay attention, really I did, but all I could think of was getting the rest of these raiders dead and getting Danse to a real bed, not necessarily in that order of importance. He finally realized that I was staring past him and sighed, but finished up with 'By the numbers this time. Let's go.' I nodded and we went into the 'maintenance closet'. Turned out to be a stairway down halfway to hell. There was a huge complex underneath that tiny shack. There were traps and everything all set up at the bottom, but I remembered how to deactivate them. Danse seemed impressed, which was nice. I sort of missed having someone to show off for.

We took out the dog that wandered through quickly, and I thought quietly. Not quietly enough, it would seem. Raiders came from everywhere, must have been five or six of the bastards. I was having a grand time, blipping around and exploding skulls, but Danse took a shot and stopped moving. Suddenly things weren't as fun any more. I killed the last raider in a very messy fashion, punching the end of the bat through his neck, because I didn't have time to play any more. I raced back, augs straining, and hit the manual release for the breadbox. Danse's face was pale and sweaty, and the inside of the suit smelled like blood. A lot of blood. I didn't even ask, I just started jamming stims into his jugular. After the second one, he spoke up. 'That's enough. Don't give me... too many at once. Toxic.' He said. Like I didn't know that. Still, nice to know he thought he was going to make it. I examined his armor, and cursed. His luck was worse than mine; a bullet had hit at the one weak point in the entire leg array, weird angle, no idea how it had done that. Unfortunately, it had nicked his femoral artery. If I hadn't been here, he'd have been dead in under a minute.

'OK, Paladin, you stay here and rest. Here's another stim,' I said as I put it in his hand. 'When you feel like it's the right time, you take that and we'll have you walking out of here yet. I'm going to go downstairs and deal with the rest of our friends, OK?' He nodded. I picked up his rifle from where he had dropped it and handed it back. 'Stay safe.' He looked so miserable, I leaned in and kissed his cheek. 'Be back soon.' I took the memory of his wide-eyed stare with me as I went to see how much of my rage and frustration I could take out on whoever was left. This was about to get very ugly for someone, and someone wasn't me. There was a long hallway leading back into the depths of the earth, and at the back of it was... oh look. A big, tough looking bitch with a minigun, slung on a leather strap over her shoulders. I heard a scuffle and whipped around, blipped behind the raider who had appeared and hit her in the neck with the bat. Her head went flying, which gave me an idea. The rudiments of a plan were starting to form in my mind. It stank down here; clearly they had been pissing in one of the rooms because the whole place reeked like a latrine. I picked up the raider head and then stepped out into the hallway in plain view of minigun chick and said 'Hey, you. I'm a little aggravated with you.' 

She laughed maniacally and the minigun started to spin up. What kind of drugs are these raiders on, anyway? She even yelled 'Get some, motherfucker!' Silly girl. She figured I was going to get eaten alive by bullets before I could make it halfway down the hallway. That was a mistake, but sadly for her, it was her last mistake. I threw the head of her friend with my full strength at her and it slammed into the barrels of the minigun, fouling them completely with brains and goo going everywhere. Probably sent a shock up her arms, too, poor thing. Before she could even drop the gun, I was on her. Blip blip hello!

I leaned in from behind, holding her arms down, and whispered 'I am so very upset with you right now.' She was trying to struggle, cursing my name, but good luck with that. 'Your little raider buddies hurt my friend.' I broke her left arm. The usual crying, cursing, threatening, so boring. 'I don't appreciate that. Not at all.' Her right arm went. Struggling had pretty much stopped. Hard to struggle with broken limbs, just results in puking. There was a little of that, but thankfully I was behind her so I wasn't in spray range. 'I'd stay to tell you how very little I think of your hurting him, but I have to go make sure he's OK. Night night.' I twisted her head until her neck broke, but didn't pull it off. I figured it was time to get a little artistic, just to make my point for anyone who came to see where their friends had gotten to. I pulled the minigun strap over her head then drove the barrels directly through her chest, nailing her into a steel drum that was there in the corner. I eyed the arrangement critically; it seemed like something was missing. I tucked a beer bottle from the floor in her hand, and put a cigarette in her lips. There we go, better. I used her blood to paint a sign that said 'Leave Danse Alone' and tacked it to her chest with a knife from her pocket. Hopefully he would appreciate it. Made me feel better, anyway.

I went back up to check on him. He was up and walking, thank goodness. Those stims work wonders. We went downstairs and he saw my artwork but looked sick instead of appreciative. I mean, I'm sorry, but I can only work with what I have, OK? Shoddy materials lead to shoddy work. Sighing, I went with him down a long hall where we found a way to get into the sealed room upstairs. It was a treasure room, even had a mini nuke that he insisted on carrying with him. Tucked in one corner was a crate of flux sensors, clearly labeled FLUX SENSOR ARRAYS PART NO. 5701-RX, and I was glad we found them because Danse was glad. Whatever the hell they were for. We took anything else useful and headed out for Sanctuary. He was making me crazy because he had returned to no-talk mode.

It was late when we got there. The place looked about like I'd left it when I went south; no signs of any visitors, all of the mines I left around my old house and the one across the street were untripped. I looked at the tangle of arms and eyes laying outside my house near the rosebushes that was all that was left of Codsworth, and felt sad all over again. I wish I'd been here to refuel him or something. Terrible to think of him dying out here alone, even though I knew he was a robot. Is it still dying if you aren't alive? Still it was sad. I wondered if he would come back if I could refuel him; worth thinking about, there must be some leftover Mr. Handy fuel somewhere. Danse put the huge carry bag down containing all the components inside the house. I showed him the power armor repair bay, and his face lit up. He even spoke a whole sentence to me, which was practically a first for the day.

"Outstanding! I can fix the hole in my armor. It's very strange that a shot got through; the T-60 is very difficult to penetrate." Danse, if you're going to hand me lines like that, this is going to get really dirty really quick.

"Well," I said slowly, "I expect I could penetrate it." I raised one eyebrow as he scoffed. Clearly he didn't get my meaning. 

"I sincerely doubt that even with your augments, you could do anything against a properly trained soldier in full armor. Flesh can only go so far." OK, Paladin, we're getting a little big for our britches, now. Perhaps it's time for another demonstration.

"Oh you think not? How about a friendly wager?" Now Danse was beginning to look a little concerned, but he was so convinced of his invulnerability in that giant walking refrigerator that his mouth just couldn't let it go.

"A wager is unnecessary. I freely admit, your augmented speed and strength are impressive. This armor, however, is designed to withstand severe impact. There is..."

"Paladin." I interrupted his little tech wank. "I could have you out of that armor and dead within seconds if I wanted, and there's nothing you could do about it." I motioned to the street between the two houses, and he stepped over, face showing a bit of worry but unable to conceive of what I could do. "Leave your helmet off, because I don't want to hurt you. It wouldn't slow me down any, but I'd hate to break your neck getting it off." Now he was seriously concerned, but I kept going. "OK, take your best shot." He was hesitant, just looking at me, but I was insistent. "You've seen me fight lasers before, Danse. Go ahead. Try to shoot me." He raised his rifle, still not at top speed, but good enough. I blipped behind him, jumping onto the struts of his armor. There were two emergency release clamps tucked inside the shoulder joins. They normally required a hydraulic tool to operate, but for an Auggie they were workable if we were willing to get bruised fingers. I jammed my fingers in and squeezed them and before he could get his rifle to chest level the hydraulics were opening and spitting him out the back. His rifle fell to the ground as his arms came out of the chassis, and I grabbed him and laid him flat on the ground at top speed. I yanked his hood off as we went and dropped it, wanting to see his hair. I was on top of him in a blink, leaning over him and softly pressing my lips lightly against his. My ass was pressed against the groin of his flightsuit, and just like before part of him wanted me to know that it really liked my display of augmentation. His eyes were wide and half panicked, and his breath huffed against my lips.

"Wha..." he said, then shook his head. "How did you do that?"

"Emergency release clamps," I whispered against his lips. "We trained against power armor, remember?" This close to him, his smell rose up around me and I remembered our time at ArcJet all too well. His scent was overwhelmingly sexy. I wanted to rub my face against him and purr, roll in that smell. He tensed up underneath me, finally realizing that we were lying in the middle of a street with me on top of him. He probably also realized that his body had tried to start the party without him at about that time, because he tried to sit up. I didn't budge, and he realized he was trapped. "Can I have a kiss to let you up?" He flushed immediately, gorgeous brown eyes looking away from me, trying to pretend like I wasn't there, holding him down with his thick hard prick jammed against my ass. I pressed my nose into his hair and inhaled. He tried to get up again with the same results, and grunted in frustration. I finally said "You can say no, you know... if you don't want to." He looked back at me, meeting my eyes, and his lips parted. I thought he was about to say it, and braced myself for disappointment, but no... he shocked me. His lips leaned up and touched mine. I leaned into the kiss, tongue sliding around his lips, and he tasted like lightning and the essence of sex. He whined softly in the back of his throat and it was all I could do not to rip the clothes off him right in the street. "Let's go inside, shall we?" 

I helped him up and walked him into the house across the street. I had fixed this one up, not mine, because there were too many memories over there, too many mental landmines. By the time we got back to the bedroom, he was shivering with anticipation. He shocked me again when he spoke. "I've... thought about this a lot. What we did. At ArcJet." I nodded enouragingly, trailing my hands across his broad shoulders, down his back. "I liked it. I didn't... didn't want to like it. But I did. I can't stop thinking about it."

"I know, babe." He twitched like I'd shocked him. "It was good, I told you. So good. I've been thinking about you a lot too." I unfastened his flight suit. "Let's get this off, shall we?" He unzipped his suit, shrugged it off quick and sat on the side of the bed naked to the waist. I could look at him all day. His muscles were so amazing, and that hairy chest and stomach, cobblestone abs and the acres of smooth, muscled back... good god. His cock made a huge lump in the fabric in front of him. I kicked off my boots but remembered this time to put them down together, folded my coat neatly, put everything down in order as he watched. His gorgeous brown eyes were huge and appreciative, pupils blown wide, watching me strip. There was a little smile playing around his lips that I wanted to eat, kiss him until I could crawl in his skin with him. I could feel my adrenaline wanting to surge, but I was doing my best to stay calmer than last time. I wanted to see his face, dammit. Face down, ass up was good enough for a quickie but I wanted to watch him take me, watch him feel the sensations, watch him cum in me. Speaking of that... I remembered to go over to the dresser against one wall and fetch the bottle of lube that I had found tucked in a bedroom in Concord. I left it here, hoping, and now that hope was being repaid.

"Stand up," I said, and he looked at me quizzically but stood. I just gaped. He looked like a god standing there, all muscles and virility and power. I knelt between his legs and tugged on his flight suit, orange polyester slick and weird under my hands but the smell of Danse around me like a garden of roses. He pushed it down, and his erection stood in front of me like a tower. God, even with my memories I forgot just how thick he was, how potent looking. I leaned forward as he gasped in surprise, tongue sliding around and across his foreskin before I took the end in my mouth. It was like taking a fist into my mouth... good lord this man was enormous. One hand came up and cupped his heavy balls, playing with the coarse black hair on his scrotum, and the other hand slid along the shaft that wouldn't fit in my mouth. Up and down, twisting, sliding, Danse huffing his breath out and moaning... I didn't want to stop but I also didn't want him to cum like this. Later we could do that but I wanted him in me again. I needed to know if it would be as good the second time as it was the first. He was groaning with each downstroke now, short and guttural. I pulled off him and said "Not yet. Take this off, let me see you." Once he was completely naked, I stood up too and just looked at him. He looked back at me, acting puzzled, like he didn't know that he was inhumanly gorgeous. Last time, he got to look at me, it was my turn now. I ran my hands along his massive shoulders, down those thick arms, triceps bulging, enormous biceps, corded forearms, played with his thick, callused fingers. So amazing. I leaned forward and rubbed my cheek across his chest, the thick black hair there sliding soft against my face, lips tickled by it, so warm. His damp cock jutted out at me, almost threatening. Soon, I told it in my mind, wait your turn. I moved around him and stopped, hypnotized by his ass. His quads were enormous tree trunks, but his ass was so perfect it made me almost tear up. Lightly fuzzy with the same black hair on his legs, it was perfectly shaped. All of him was perfectly shaped. Danse was a work of art, and I felt blessed to view it. I ran my hands down those thick legs, along his shins, around his ankles, across his toes. Even his toes were sexy. How was that even possible?

I took off my pants and laid them aside, slid my underwear down and he made a grunt of appreciation as my cock bounced free. Noises like that were going to get him in trouble, I wanted to warn him. That was too sexy to be legal. "Sit" I said, and he did. "Now lay back." He looked confused, but lay down on the bed, cock thrusting proudly upwards. I poured some lube into my hand and rubbed it across his length. "OK," I said, "I'm going to teach you how to do something new." I greased up his index and middle finger, and he looked at me with a puzzled expression, then I watched the light dawn as he figured it out. Along with another one of those amazing blushes that started at his pecs and worked its way up. I crawled on top of him and aimed my ass backwards and said "One finger". He ran his index finger along the edges of my hole, teasing me. How did he know that, I wondered, but the thought was cut short by the tip sliding in just a bit, teasing, then sliding out again. In and out, teasing me. I looked at his face and he was watching me intently, smiling that half smile again. This bastard was dangerous, I thought semi-coherently. I could get way too used to this. His finger dug deeper, making me shiver. "Now bend your finger a little... _Ah!_Oh God yes... that... feel that?" He nodded, breath coming a little faster. I could sense his pulse picking up, like pleasing me turned him on. "That's the magic spot." A second finger suddenly made its presence known, uninvited but welcome. I felt him working his fingers in more and more, and just like last time, I couldn't wait any more. If it hurt, it would just hurt. I moved over him and he looked like he wanted to get up, but I held him down and just put my ass on his cockhead, guiding it in with one hand while he made a surprised 'ohhh' face.

It hurt, but I didn't care. Just like last time, it was like he was designed to please me. He wasn't as clueless or shy this time either; he pulled halfway out and slammed into me, making me arch my back and yell. I slammed back down on him as he rose to meet me and it was amazing. His face was changing with each stroke, expressions coming and going so quickly and each one more gorgeous than the last, lust and pleasure and joy all flickering across his face, so unlike the Paladin mask he showed the rest of the world. Knowing that nobody else had ever seen these faces was almost enough to get me off without a touch; seeing them with all the rest of him was like a hit of the best drug in the world. His hands came up and grabbed my hips, I knew what that meant. I leaned forward, and the feeling of his chest against mine and his abs tensing and contracting against my cock was amazing. I kissed him and he returned it briefly, but then pulled away, huffing against my face and ear. Before I knew what was happening, his teeth latched into my neck and my hand flew to my cock. I felt him tense against me, the squirting inside, pulse pulse pulse, and then I was cumming across his abs and chest myself with just a few tugs. He gasped for breath, slowly coming down, hands relaxing from their hold on my hips and ass. He arched his head back, showing me his throat again, and I leaned forward and dragged my teeth across it, feeling his stubble with my lips. He made a whimpering sound that hit me in my solar plexus... god the things this man did to me without even knowing. I slid off of him and nudged him until he moved over, then collapsed on the bed beside him, snuggling myself up against his warmth. "That," I told him with a kiss to the tip of his nose, "was as good as the last time, which shouldn't be possible. You are amazing." He grinned and ducked his head, like an embarrassed kid. Honestly, it was like he was made for me.

A few minutes later, my contentment was complete. This was officially the best day ever. My ass was burning in the best of all possible ways, and I felt like I was going to have the bruise of the century on the side of my neck tomorrow. It didn't get any better than this. I rolled over and grabbed my cigarettes, lit one and leaned back using Danse's cantaloupe-sized bicep as a pillow. He made a face like he always did every time I did something he didn't approve of, but all he said was 'Those will kill you.'

'Nah,' I said, grinning. 'Blood scrubbers will catch it before it gets anywhere.' Total bullshit, but he didn't know that. Danse looked impressed for a minute in spite of himself. He just couldn't get over my internal toy chest, and seemed willing to believe just about anything about it. I wondered idly if I could convince him that I could eat a fusion core. On second thought, better not. Showing off with my augs made him hard, he might bring me one and want to watch me eat it while he jerked off. He looked over at my sudden snort of laughter. Time to change the subject. 'Surprised to see you hanging around this time, figured you'd be running away like at ArcJet, haul ass back to the station and beat yourself up some more.' I slid a lazy hand down those rippled abs, savoring the black fuzz under my hand and the bumps of each muscle. He made a soft pleased noise, but his face stayed scrunched up, eyes looking away. He might be here still with me, but nothing about his expression said comfortable.

'Thanks to our mission at ArcJet, I was able to speak with the Brotherhood via the commlink relay.' Now this was news. I would have figured he would be staying away from me if he was getting a regular dose of the old HQ horseshit being pumped in his ear, not snuggling down and getting closer. I made a noise I hoped sounded interested or inquisitive. Truth was I was feeling too relaxed to care but so much. Good lord this man could fuck. He took care of that relaxed feeling pretty quick, though. 'Elder Maxson was amazed that an augmented soldier was still surviving. He...'

Well, so much for relaxing. I was so mad I could have thrown him across the room. 'God _fucking_ dammit, Danse.' Now he had to go and ruin everything. Shit, shit, shit. I knew I would regret this, and here we were. 'You told him about me? Did it never occur to you that in all those times I told you I wasn't interested in being in the military, that I was done with all that, that I had had enough, that maybe, just maybe, I was telling the truth?' I sat up and looked around for my clothes. Fuck this. He put his hand on my shoulder, but had the common sense not to try to hold me in place. I'd have broken his arm and he knew it, and all those muscles wouldn't help him a bit. I turned to glare at him but stopped cold. He was lying there, all gorgeous and muscled, but his face was so miserable he looked like a kid whose toy had been stolen. I should have thought it was hysterical, big strong man like this making that face, but instead I felt bad. That gave me a moment's worry. A good fuck is one thing, even a phenomenal one, but if I'm starting to feel emotions... Hmm. Danger. I decided that needed to be dragged out and examined later.

'I didn't mean... But you wouldn't have to... oh. I see.' Ugly realization dawned on that honest, earnest face. It would have been cute if it wasn't taking so much effort not to punch him in the mouth. 'I broke your confidence, and... I didn't realize it until now.' His voice was quiet but bitter. 'I'm sorry. I just thought...'

'Yeah', I said roughly. Whether you feel bad or not, you're not getting out of this particular fuck-up, buddy. 'You thought you'd let your brass know what sort of treasure you found, and maybe then they'd be so happy they would overlook the fact that you were slipping him the sausage?' Danse produced a truly remarkable blush even for him, practically turning maroon. Jesus, he looked like he was about to start crying. Who let this overgrown boy out into the big cruel world, anyway? I realized I was going to have to step it down a notch if I wanted to stay in contact. And fuck me, but I did want to stay in contact. Preferably full body contact... but enough of that. 'So you told the brass, great. And what were their orders? Let me take a wild guess. Recruit me, bribe me, trap me, do whatever it takes to get me to sign on, or failing that lock me in a cage 'til they can come and get me? I know damn well they don't want me running around loose out here if I'm not on their team, that's not how any military has worked in the history of the world.' As if everything else wasn't enough, my cigarette had gone out. This just wasn't my day. Danse's eyebrows were practically part of his hairline, eyes wide but clearly looking way off inside himself somewhere. I figured he was suddenly having some long overdue realizations about what his CO's motivations were. I could wait. I knew there wasn't shit he could do by his lonesome to trap me here if I didn't want to be. I didn't get up, but I was still too irritated with him to lay back down and cuddle up again, so I just sat on the edge of the bed and grumpily relit my cig. A defeated sounding exhale indicated to me that Danse had finished thinking through what I was telling him. His eyes were a little older when he looked at me again.

'You're right.' Well, well, well. I knew it cost him big to admit that. I also knew that Danse, the real Danse, was talking; no way in hell the Paladin would ever have admitted it. 'Elder Maxson was very pleased. Thrilled, I'd say. He instructed me to do anything in my power to motivate you to join the Brotherhood.'

'Anything in your power, huh?' Now my mind was going in bad directions. Every time I thought this conversation had bottomed out, it rounded a curve and dropped again. 'Is that why we're here, all cozy in the bed? So what are you, my bribe to come back to the fold?' Seemed awful manipulative for Mr. Straight and Narrow here, but at this point, anything was possible. I didn't know if Danse would fuck me on orders or not, but I had no illusions about the Paladin.

An immediate, highly offended 'No!' was the response, no thought required. A breath I didn't know I was holding huffed out. Well, that's good at least. I knew he was shit at lying. Those big brown eyes were very earnest now, looking at me. I felt a strong urge to kiss him, and realized with a shiver that he was the only one I'd ever met other than Nora that could make me want to kiss them while I was still mad. 'I would never... I just thought, if you joined up, we could be... you know. You couldn't report to me, of course, but...' Oh, for the love of... this boy was too much. He'd clearly grown up reading romance novels along with his field training manuals.

Now I felt old. Really, really old. I was probably around the same age as Danse physically, not counting my centuries as a popsicle, but in terms of life experience I might as well have lived through those centuries instead of being frozen for the differences between us. 'Danse,' I said softly. He kept giving me that puppy dog look, unaware that I was probably about to break his heart and tell him some things he didn't want to hear at all. 'Trying to get me to come back to the army is the worst of all possible bad ideas.' I could see those brows knit, mouth drawing down, all set to argue, and I held up my hand. 'No. Listen to me. I know you have all sorts of romantic ideas about how it would work and how we'd all get along and Elder Whosis and I would be best buddies and I could help with the Glorious Mission or whatever the fuck...' Now he really wanted to argue, but he seemed to realize I needed to have my say. 'But let me tell you how it would go down. Assuming you and I are compatible enough to settle down in the first place, here's the first thing that would happen. As soon as your general realized that we were fucking, you would be sidelined somewhere safe. Your career as a soldier would be over, effective immediately, because you would now be my leash. As my leash, you would be kept close in his hand, and your chances of getting to leave base would be nil. Unless I bailed, in which case it would immediately become your job to bring me back dead or alive.'

Oh, he was mad now. None of this fit his plans at all, at all. Mouth a thin line, breathing heavy, eyes thunderous. Brace yourself, babe... these pills don't get any more pleasant or easy to swallow. 'The second thing that would happen is I would be in the unenviable position of Secret Weapon Number One. Whoever the HMFIC is (head motherfucker in charge, I explained to his look of confusion) would send me out on every certain-death excursion he could dream up, just to see how many gumballs were in this particular machine. You, as my leash, would be instructed to sit and wait for me to come back. Occasionally you would be put on the radio with me to remind me, not so subtly, that you were still here and I needed to come home for debriefing and new orders. Get it?' Poor Danse. He wanted to stay mad, but he was thinking because thinking was his weakness, and the grey cast to his face showed that he might not disagree as much as he would really like to. In spite of being mad as hell, I still laughed a little to think of all the hell I was playing inside his mind for that internal Paladin to clean up.

'And finally,' I took a long drag on my cigarette and blew smoke up to the ceiling, 'assuming I lived through all the Whiskey Tango Foxtrot missions somehow, pretty soon the science boys would manage to convince the HMFIC that since I was the last one of my kind, maybe I should be pulled apart and studied to see if they could figure out how to do it again. Small sacrifices for the greater good, right? And the HMFIC, who would have been spending more than a few sleepless nights worrying about what I might get up to if I ever slipped my leash (with an extra dose of pants shitting because I lived through all his certain death missions) would be more than happy to agree. So they'd drag you out of wherever they had you stashed, and either try to use you to lure me to where I could be trapped, or threaten you to see if they could do the luring themselves. And I would either end up having to kill most of your command hierarchy or end up as Sticky cutlets.' Danse didn't want to hear any of this, he really didn't. But he was obviously watching it play out on his mental screens, and even the Paladin was having a hard time arguing with it... assuming the Paladin got a say at all, considering Danse was still naked in bed with a man.

'That was a... profoundly disrespectful explanation.' I looked over in disbelief, and saw the corners of his mouth turned up in a little quick smile in spite of himself. Holy shit, Danse is developing a sense of humor. Just when I thought this day couldn't get any weirder. 'I would probably disagree with some of the specifics, but I must admit you paint a convincing picture.' He looked so sad. I just couldn't stand to see him with that hangdog expression any more, fuck it. I leaned over and kissed him. After a few minutes of that, we broke apart. Now his lips were redder than usual, which almost pulled me back down, but at least his eyes were softer and happier. He said in a soft voice, 'I just thought... if you were in the Brotherhood, that we could be together. I wasn't thinking about anything but myself. I'm sorry.' I snuggled back down in the bed with him, wrapped one of those big arms around me like a scarf, and felt like purring. He smelled amazing, machine oil and pheromones and sex. I really hoped this wasn't going to be the last time I got to do this with him.

'Babe.' He still jerked when I called him that; it was still adorable. 'I'm flattered that this has been good enough that you immediately thought of settling down with me.' He looked mortified, but I went on. Together, huh? OK, Danse, you want to have this conversation, we can have it. I was going to put it all out on the table, and we'd see what he thought then. I took a deep breath and propped myself up on one arm so I could see his face. 'I'll be blunt. All joking aside, you're the best sex I've ever had. I said that before and I mean it, even more now that I know it's consistent. But.' Now he looked concerned. 'I don't know what kind of romantic story you've got going on about a house and kids and picket fence playing in your head, but even if there is an us someday, that's never going to be it.' I know my face was serious, and he looked really worried. Maybe a little bit sick, even. Sorry buddy, but you better know what you're buying if you're standing at the counter with it.

'You need to know me as I am, not what you want me to be. And what I am is pretty much a monster.' He wanted to laugh and play it off, but after what I did at Olivia he knew I wasn't joking. Hell, he'd seen me fight up close and personal, seen me laugh when I killed people. I knew I was a fucking monster, never doubted it. It hurt my feelings that Nora hated that part of me, but she wasn't wrong. 'I'm not some military wife to sit around the house and iron your underwear and wait with a hot meal for you to come home.' Just the image had me howling with laughter inside. 'And I'm not a soldier, either. Never was a very good one. I'm the Soldier's Companion. You know that reference?' He just shook his head. 'Some Greek philosopher way back said that the soldier's constant companion was Death. They kill up until they are killed themselves, and Death is always with them, their companion walking beside them. That's me, babe. I'm just... Death. I'm a walking weapon, a grenade with feet. I kill. Soldiers fight for country and glory and ideals. I just fight because it's all I know, and it's fun, and I can. I like killing things, and I'm really fucking good at it. The rush is the best high there is. I'm basically a highly intelligent deathclaw.' He eyed me like I'd lost my mind, but I was telling him as clear as I could. This wasn't Nora. I knew better now. And if he wanted to be with me, well, he better know who I was, sooner rather than later. And shit... I guess I should tell him about Nora too. Some more truths first, though. I was getting to be impressed. He hadn't run away yet, hadn't even flinched. Honestly, I didn't think he'd make it this far.

I leaned over and licked his ear and he whined a bit, shifted in the bed. Then I leaned in and whispered 'And I know that's why you want me. You only like me because you know how dangerous I really am. How easily I could kill you.' His eyes were on me, but they weren't exactly happy any more. His face looked like he was looking over the edge of a cliff and evaluating how far down it went and how much it would hurt him to jump. This chat was a little more real than Danse wanted to be. I pulled back a bit, raised my voice to close to normal. 'If I got back in the army, even if my little scenario didn't play out... as soon as I started toeing the line and repeating all that yessir, yessir, three bags full bullshit, you'd drop me like an empty Nuka bottle. Because it's boring. There's no danger in that, just rules and regs and paperwork. If that turned you on, you'd be fucking Rhys, not me.' His face scrunched up at the idea and I laughed at him, but he got the message. I went on in a low voice. 'But seeing me tear things up, and blip around the action theater, and kill... that makes you hard, doesn't it? When you see me destroy a room full of hostiles and laugh, but then come back and bend over for you, let you stick your cock in me, ride me hard, bite me and mark me like you tamed me... that reaches right down into your balls and grabs you, doesn't it?' My voice was lower and rougher now, practically growling, and his cock was plumping up, standing up in spite of him. He didn't like to hear these things out loud but his cock knew I was right and it was telling me so loud and clear. 'Because you know I could kill you in a second... but I don't. And that 'could but don't' gets you off.' I grabbed his cock roughly, too fast for him to see, and he almost levitated off the bed, gulping for breath. '_Doesn't it, _Danse?' I realized as I was talking why I was starting to have feelings for him, too. The part of me that he found irresistible was the same part that Nora had hated. If I was being honest, that was its own sort of rush. Just the idea of a partner that understood who and what I was and loved it, or even tolerated it, who didn't need me to hide so much of myself when we were alone... fuck. That sounded great. I needed to keep an eye on that.

He couldn't even talk. Eyes blown wide, gasping, shaking, I hoped I hadn't overdone it. I kept forgetting that he was only a few fucks past virgin. His cock was still rock hard in my hand though, as I slid my fingers gently up and down to the sound of his gulping. Hmm... Let's find out if it was too much. I crouched down beside him, arms and legs splayed out like some sort of animal, and smiled dangerously. His hand lifted and went around my side, reaching for my ass. Well, well... guess I hadn't overdone it. 'No,' I said decisively. He looked at me, rolled his eyes around like he was trying to figure out what the word meant. 'I think we're going to explore the menu a bit. No need to get stuck in a rut so soon. What else do you want to try?' The sight of his obvious confusion made me snicker, though I was as hard as he was. Hmm... I reached out and grabbed one of his meaty hands, rubbed his fingers with mine for a second to savor the calluses on them, and wrapped it around my cock. He twitched a little, stared at his hand like it had never held a cock before, even his own (oh surely he wasn't that innocent, I thought wearily), but he slowly began to slide his hand up and down. I was cut, so he was probably a little confused about where the missing bit was, but he'd have to ask my parents about that. I wasn't as thick as he was for sure, but it was about the same length, so it shouldn't be that unfamiliar. 'Talk to me, Danse. What sounds good. Use your imagination.'

'I...' he was so precious when he was confused like this. 'I know you said... you wanted... um...' he licked his lips and I was amazed I hadn't thought of it. God, yes. I was going to teach Danse how to suck cock. I would finally get the blowjob that I wanted at the beginning of this wild ride. This was going to be amazing.


End file.
